The Dark Angel
an ode to rented love
A paradise is our fair place,
Even for not young of face.
Age is but a trifling thing,
Life’s seasons seem forever spring.
Chasing angels, youthful beauty,
Pleasure is the only duty.
But for each day there is a night,
And there is cost to each delight.
A prior life of deprivation,
Leaves man weak with desperation.
Chance for daily Earthly pleasure,
Makes him lust and fake his measure.
Aged not always means mature
But vanity it does endure.
Feeling special is his fix,
Angel serves a potent mix.
She knows how to use her wiles,
Makes her sacrifice and smiles.
So again plays out life’s story,
She wants home, he wants glory.
He wants to be loved for he,
But self he sees she does not see.
Certainly he’s no heart-throb,
But will serve to do a job.
Angel’s married, has much face,
In village struts with hi-so grace.
Man who loves her is bizarre,
But while he pays can play the star.
House he bought her, money spent,
To her is little more than rent.
At last it dawns he was a means
Was never one of her real dreams.
To be his wife was just a chore,
The next life now will bring her more.
‘Goodbye’ is his final text,
Instinctively, hers is ‘next’.
